The Hands I Own The hands I have, Will be gone, Lost forever, My memories with them, They will be tossed. The years, Of sheltering, And writing, Washed away. The hours, I’ve spent, With the people I love. The hands, Always cold and warm, With anger beneath, Controlled by love, The face I own Will
Posts Categorized: Blog
Growing Up Growing up A feeling of despair, Falls on my mind A feeling of loss, At how time passes time. I remember the days, Of jumping couches of fire. Being a ten foot monster, Who takes all I desire. The cracks on the pavement, Are jumped over and dodged. The mischief and mayhem I
The Silence Ever since, I was young The whispers have banged Against my ears like screams. Each murmur, mumble, or tremble Was an earthquake to my eardrums. Words that I didn’t understand were used as insults all around me. Why Was it wrong? Why is it bad? Why don’t I understand? Confusion would cloud my
Take me Out Take me out of my casing Place me in your arms and hold me Reaching for my tested twines, Your supple fingertips graze my surface; You begin to play From ABC to 123 You hit all of my notes Your method so mellow, Your approach so gentle, Yet you still manage to
She Is She is beautiful and strong She is everything yet a wall She is tired and stressed Her heart beats in her chest She overthinks to ruin the good things But she is on a string She is coping but barely People can be scary She is beautiful Anon Remember Remember that one kid?
Plague of Shadows It creeps, it crawls, and it yearns for the fear in the hearts of men This is how it finds some purpose in it all It comes without warning, a virus, That one instinctively dreads What does it hunger for, what does it exist for? It wants to be remembered, to be
I Try I hate the doubt, the negativity, the judgement, I hate the fear, lack of belief, presumptions, People look, people stare and people don’t care, People fail, give up, give in, and worry, But not me I try, I fail, I try again, I don’t give in, I try, try again, I fall, collapse,
Why does it Matter? Why does it matter? Why does it matter if you look good or you’re pretty or you behave well and ladylike? Why does it matter if you are white, black, mixed race or Asian? Why does it matter if you are straight, gay, bi, trans or anything and everything in between?
Golden Sun The golden sun glistens on the morning fields, It’s rays nourish the green grass below, Illuminating the heavenly blue above, Where the sun plays hide and seek with the clouds. This land holds a stream that summers down into the lake, Yellow hues ripple in the water, Cascading shadows on the pebbles below,
The Bitterness of Reality Who are we? What are we made of? Who do we have to tell us whether we are write or wrong? Who do we have to look up to for inspiration, or anyone who has sang their song? I’m just a man, Full of goals and dreams, To others it’s not